


where the sky falls through, would you stay there?

by Julx3tte



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Fluff, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), felannie, felix is tired and turns his castle into a group therapy home, retired!felix, soft felix fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25398733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julx3tte/pseuds/Julx3tte
Summary: felix retires after the war and spends a year rebuilding fraldarius while his friends run the government.soft!felix featuring "What if if he just retired after the war and everyone had to deal with it?" with bonus felannie that was not supposed to be prominent yet... is.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 25
Kudos: 61





	where the sky falls through, would you stay there?

**Author's Note:**

> somehow my longest fic ever isn't even my top ship ahah. soft!felix is here thank you for reading :). 
> 
> shout out to sylvgrid server muses for helping me get this done tonight!! 
> 
>   
> _Let's get lost forever  
>  Are you hearing me?  
> Pick up all my prayers  
> Are you hearing me?_

The long road home from Enbarr was probably the most exhausting trip of Felix’s life. Simply recovering from the battle was exhausting. Having to look forward to a giant political mess was impossible to describe. 

Reconstructing the continent would take far too long for Dimitri to hold the occupied city himself, so the Blue Lions decided to march back to Garreg Mach and hold it as their base of operations for the final time. It would be a month long reconstruction summit to rebuild Fhirdiad, to let Derdriu heal, and to figure out what the hell to do with Enbarr.

The consolidation of power would take years and only Sylvain, it seemed, was even remotely interested in thinking about it now. The rest of them were just tired. 

He could tell just by looking at them, faces lit against the campfire. 

Dimitri, for the first time, showed signs of the man he’d been masking as before Byleth’s disappearance. Day by day his face grew softer, even laughing at Ashe’s bad jokes and the professor's teasing. Sylvain and Mercedes were having a discussion about… something, and the others were taking sides, letting themselves relax their way into a full night’s deep sleep. 

Unfortunately, it meant their trip was jovial and ridiculous, and all Felix wanted was to lay in his bed and think about what the hell he wanted to do with himself.

He was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of trying to figure out what loyalty to Faerghus meant, tired of the revolving thing he had with Annette and making sense of whether it was wartime stress or something more that they split a bed every night of the campaign and no one batted an eye.

He was tired of the sword of Moralta, of the sound of his enemies falling before him, of the sound of hooves and armor and dirt and blood and mud and- 

Felix took a deep breath and lost his thoughts to the sound of Ingrid slapping Sylvain on the shoulder for making some dumb joke.

He loved his friends, he loved this, he would have and still would give anything to march with them, to treasure the memory of seeing their faces last year at the monastery when Byleth appeared from the dead.

But the war was over, and what use was a soldier and fighter and a knight during rebuilding? 

No, there was another path for the scion of Fraldarius. One that Rodrigue and Glenn would have preferred for him, too.

Felix let himself lean back into Annette’s arms and watched his friends drink the merry night away beneath the crisp air and orange sunset of the late summer. There was still much to think about. But at least there would be a tomorrow to live in.

* * *

The decision for what was next, to Felix’ surprise, was obvious.

“I’m retiring, Dimitri,” he said, handing the king a rolled up piece of paper sealed up with wax. 

Ingrid and Sylvain and the others gaped at him from the side of the throne room.

They’d returned to Dimitri’s seat in Fhirdiad shortly after appointing a provisional government. Byleth offered to stay behind at Garreg Mach to rebuild the monastery and handle the continent, much to Dimitri’s temporary disappointment. The rest of them spent a week in the capital before returning home to check on their territories and prepare for their new positions in Dimitri’s government.

He’d been offered his father’s role:  _ be my advisor, _ Dimitri had asked.  _ Lead our defenses. Be my shield _ .

Not that Felix minded. He was now the sole heir of Fraldarius and it was… nice for Dimitri to honor Rodrigue like that.

But the thought of governing, of managing half a dozen territories’ forces and being tasked with security for the continent made Felix’s head spin. There were too many pieces, too many relationships and dynamics to manage. 

Leave it to Sylvain, or Ashe to handle the politics. Leave it to Ingrid to defend Fodlan. Felix wanted nothing to do with it. 

“What do you mean retiring,” Dimitri asked. He was as kingly as ever - he’d even allowed his attendants to trim his hair. It was still long and shaggy, but somehow made his crown look even more prominent on his head.

“I mean I’m retiring. I have plenty of money and favor, I don’t want to govern,” Felix said simply.

There was a beat of silence as the rest of them gauged how serious he was. 

“What will you do?” Dimitri asked. He hoped the man would understand. He was tired of fighting and conflict and needed space to figure out what it was he did want out of life.

“Rebuild Fraldarius,” he said, immediately. “Make it somewhere worthy of my father and brother’s memorials.” 

Dimitri’s face was hard to read, but then he started to smile, and the grin grew wide enough to make his stoic features look even more wolflike than possible.

Dimtiri stuck his arm out, waiting for Felix to take it. Felix scoffed and took the man’s arm.

“Let us know when we can crash, yeah?”

Sylvian and Ingrid walked over and pushed him against each shoulder.

Felix realized too late what was about to happen. “Oh gods please don’t-”

The three of them embraced Felix until he couldn’t breathe. 

* * *

Before he even returned home, though, all Felix wanted to do was sleep. It was the rightful first order of business. Marching out to war meant catching what he could in between battles. Even when the command tent was heavily guarded, he still slept on edge.

But, in Fhiardiad, in the room Dimitri promised to keep spare for him, he could disappear for more than a few hours and not have everyone worried about him getting killed.

So he slept. Felix blocked out the curtains of his room and slept and slept and only interrupted his sleep to groggily walk to the banquet hall at odd hours to shovel food in his mouth and tell an attendant to start leaving him trays overnight so he didn’t have to wander out anymore.

Three or so days later, Felix heard his door open and shut and the sound of faint footsteps. It was obviously Annette. It couldn’t be anyone else - any of the others would have woken him up outright or not come in at all, and from his sleepy brain Felix could only imagine which of them would bother to unlock his door in the first place.

His suspicions were confirmed when the pillow in his arms was yanked away. It’d been propping him up on his side, and Felix started rolling onto his belly. A hand, however, stopped him from falling and the mystery person quickly took the pillow’s place.

Felix wrapped his arm around Annette’s waist and instinctively shoved his face into the back of her hair, enjoying the sweet scent of her shampoo - and let himself fall back asleep.

A few hours later, with light trying to break through his curtains, Felix realized that there was a person pressed up against his chest and his hips and opened his eyes quickly. He caught a facefull of red, and Annette shifted over to look at him.

“Hey sleepy,” she said, touching her lips softly to his forehead.

“Mmm?” he tried to ask. The words didn’t quite come out right.

“Take your time.”

Felix closed his eyes again and kept them shut until he was too restless to. Having Annette in his arms with nowhere else to be was a privilege he hadn’t let himself have yet, and he wasn’t in a rush to leave it.

“You sleep?” he asked Annette, who nodded.

“A bit,” she said, rolling so that she could nuzzle her face into his neck. The warmth sent a shiver down Felix’s body. “So. Fraldarius huh?”

She was smiling against his neck. He expected to be more nervous about what was next for, well, whatever it was they had, but a part of him was excited to tell Annette his plans.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Yeah I think I need to.”

Annette had taken a job in Dimitri’s court until the mage academy was running again, and planned to stay in Fhirdiad. He knew that. 

But she was smiling, and he used a hand on Annette’s cheek to guide her face up so that he could see her, and he knew that it was right.

She kissed him on the forehead again.

“Take my father with you, yeah? He needs a break too.”

Felix nodded and rolled them over so that Annette was straddling on his lap and kissed her until their stomachs were grumbling for breakfast.

* * *

It had been more than a year since Felix had set foot back in Castle Fraldarius, and nothing had changed. Well, nothing but him, he thought, stepping through the massive front doors with a battalion of knights returning home, too. 

His hair was shorter than it had ever been, and as he swung open the big metal doors into the main chamber, he missed the feeling of the great gush of hair blowing his hair back.

The castle was emptier - the coat of arms bearing the Fraldarius crest on the far wall had a hollow spot where the Sword of Moralta usually rested, and his father’s - no,  _ his _ chair lay dusty and unused. 

There had been servants to do basic maintenance but with so many at war, no one had actually lived in the castle since his father’s forces moved out to battle. He suspected that would change soon. 

Felix took a rag and wiped off the dirt and took a seat in the chair. He never imagined being the last lord of Fraldarius. Rodrigue’s shadow was hard to step out of, and he’d always imagined Glenn and Ingrid to be the Lord and Lady, not him. So much for that. He took a few more moments to look around from the seat before quitting to his quarters and sleeping for another full half a day. 

The next morning, the first thing Felix did was go out to the garden and dig. He found a shovel from one of the servants, who skittered past him in the halls as he rubbed his eyes, threw off his tunic, and dug out the space next to Glenn’s grave. Then, he carried the heavy stone he'd brought over from Fhirdiad onto the spot.

Their bodies were in the knight’s cemetery in the capital, of course, but it was nice to have a reminder that his father and his brother belonged here. Felix sat quietly under the sun, listening to the chirping birds trying to muster up the energy to speak.

They wouldn’t come. Of course not - not the first week back, not with Rodrigue’s death so recent, not with the heavy bitter feeling he had at leaving Annette behind. Fhiardiad was only a half day journey away, but there was something in the act of becoming Lord Fraldarius that necessitated the distance he put in between him and his friends.

He wouldn’t be a lord of war -- not anymore.

After a few minutes, he stood up, dusted his pants, and got himself ready for the first of many meetings to rebuild the townships around the castle. 

By the end of the day, Felix had so many papers and scrolls around him that he had a rare good idea of what to do with them. His head was spinning, but he managed to find a spare scroll and took it back to his room. 

_ I should write to them _ .

The first letters would go to Rodrigue and Glenn. Then he could send couriers to Fraldarius and Galatea and Rowe and Gautier. 

He slept thinking about his scratchy, hectic handwriting, hoping he’d still be able to read whatever he left on paper.

* * *

Felix swept his hair out of his face and buried the shovel into the ground again. He’d been doing a lot of digging recently - this time to help the townspeople set up new farmland as part of his new-ish economic reforms. New-ish, because Dimitri had mandated a percentage of land to be dedicated to feeding the people and he’d let the lords decide how to actually utilize it -- the people in Fraldarius needed work, so work he created. 

He had attendants now - not many, but enough to run logistics and keep him signing an endless stream of paperwork, and enough to free up a few hours a day on his pet project - the reason he’d come home to govern Fraldarius in the first place. 

Felix thought back to how dramatically he’d rejected Dimitri’s offer. Here he was, doing the same thing on a different scale. But there was a purpose.

He’d realized it the last time Gilbert came by. The older knight visited once a month or so, escaping from his new duties and surely Annette’s attention long enough to spend a weekend resting in the castle. 

It was nice to hear news from the capital without visiting himself -- and better that Gilbert was one of the few of Dimitri’s subjects willing to stay quiet long enough for Felix to think. The man never asked for more than Felix offered, and he suspected that Gilbert found it good just to be around Felix without Annettes’ commentary. More than once, he’d slipped that Annette had questions about him, and Felix took care to give a few extra details so for her.

Now, the man was on the other side of the field, hoe in hand instead of a sword, and a long linen tunic instead of armor. It suited him - the long, square lines on his face relaxed when one of the townspeople cracked a joke in between digging up rocks. In the evenings, Gilbert would join him in the main hall and write. 

Once or twice, Gilbert invited him to fish - they hiked out past the castle walls and sat by the river, silently.

“There are others, you know, that would pay for this sort of experience.” Gilbert broke the silence while Felix reeled in a catch.

“Fishing?”

A beat. “Building something. Being broken.”

“You’re hardly broken Gilbert,” he replied, throwing his fish into the box of their catches

“I haven’t lost a limb, no. But others have, and still others have lost more.”

Felix understood, now. Gilbert said nothing. In the years they’d known each other, the months of their time, neither mentioned Glenn, but Felix understood. What would have become of his brother at Gilbert’s age? The personal guard of the king at the end of his career? It was always the fate of Fraldarius to receive them. 

“Bring them next time,” he replied, staring off into the river again. “There’s room.”

* * *

The first knight to join Gilbert on the weekends was Catherine. It was still early in the reconstruction and anyone able was hard at work, sent to offer aid and peacekeep. 

“You gonna take me fishing, Felix?” she asked, dropping her bags on the table he’d set out for them. She was still armored and a carefully wrapped Thunderband was slung on her back, but stood much more relaxed than Felix had ever seen her.

He rolled his eyes, then sat down at the head of the table. “No.” 

Gilbert sat silently, and Catherine, eyes still pointed at Felix, joined them.

“So what are we doing?”

“Writing.” Felix brought out a small box of parchment and ink from underneath his chair and passed them around. “I don’t have any prompts. Write whatever comes to your mind.”

Catherine laughed, a soft chuckle that warmed the room. “I’ll write about your unkempt hair. You look worse that Dimitri did.”

Felix flicked his hair to his right and didn’t take the bait.

“Write about Shamir,” he suggested, raising his eyebrows. Gilbert, refusing to take sides, passed the paper down.

Catherine’s eyes narrowed at him, and after a moment, stuck out her tongue. “Fine, are we all sharing afterwards?”

Gilbert shook his head. “These are just for us,” he said, dipping his quill. “It helps.”

Catherine shrugged, and Felix was glad to have Gilbert’s assurance. This was the first time he’d actually had to describe what it was he and Gilbert had been up to, and the other man was right. The writing was for them. Whatever letters or poems they wrote, they had to speak for whatever it was they needed. 

So there was no reason to share, except with the person the letter was for.

Catherine and Gilbert wrote diligently until supper. Felix didn’t even realize the time had passed - just having them in the room made putting his thoughts together much easier. 

For a long time, he didn’t have anything to say to the ghosts of his brother and father. He didn’t believe in ghosts - they lived as they did and died as they served and that was that. But now, removed from war campaigns and free from the responsibility of pulling the continent together, Felix discovered he had more to say than he thought.

That night, Felix snuck out into the garden and sat at the foot of the gravestones, shivering from the chilly air and only that. 

“I finally know what to say,” he said to the air between him and the memorials. “Sorry it’s taken me a few months.”

He unrolled the parchment he’d written earlier and thumbed the edges until he found his voice.

* * *

Felix was glad when every weekend was filled with knights taking time off. Some of them were injured, still recovering, and some heard through word of mouth that Fraldarius was a gathering place for old friends.

But when Alois and Leonie stepped out into the harvest field wearing only loincloths, he had to bite back a shudder. Their energy was infectious -- half the knights in the field sang to their songs, and half the farmers learned them very quickly.

Somehow, by the end of the day, they finished raising the barn and harvesting enough wheat to feed Fraldarius twice over. The extra harvest would be sent as aid to places still recovering from the war. One of Dimitri’s mandates was that no one go hungry during Fodlan’s rebuilding, and the contracts were enforced by the Royal Knights themselves. 

A few of those bearing the responsibility were here, spending their weekend helping harvest the very thing they’d escort hundreds of miles away, from Enbarr to Almyra.

So of course, they threw a party. 

Felix always found it interesting that even knights that fought against each other were willing to put the sword aside to work in the fields and learn to paint. Not that there were any such assurances elsewhere in the continent - but here, they never so much as argued. 

All of them were here to heal. Felix noticed it in all of them. Half a dozen years of war left them all scarred somehow, and the simple act of passing bags of wheat and breaking bread and listening to Alois’ impressive collection of bad jokes helped them all feel at ease.

It helped that Alois and Leonie, still in loincloth, instigated a drinking competition. Felix stayed impartial, but there was something about the atmosphere that took him back to the first moments after taking Enbarr.

They’d gathered under the starlight after the city’s fires were put out - the civilians began to return to their homes. The worst of the city’s destruction was limited to the path to the palace, and most of the fighting had been to cover the flanks of the main road that led to Edelgard’s fortress.

They’d flown up to the top of the cathedral with almost too much alcohol for the pegasi to carry, and even the professor looked at ease.

The air was warmer then, and thicker so far south, but the stars were exactly the same. Felix had found Annette’s lap and was watching the way the wind pulled her hair to the side, wondering how just 5 years had made her so much more beautiful. The rest of them were happier than they’d been since before the tomb. 

Now, watching Gilbert learn one of the local dances, watching Alois’ wife and daughter, who sat on Leonie’s shoulders to watch her father dance too, seeing how his home had become a home for others…. Felix forced the warm smile off his face, hiding it behind a palm.

It had been over a year, somehow. It was time to visit Fhirdiad. 

* * *

He showed up at the doorstep of the royal palace with a horse and cart and for a few minutes, the guards weren’t sure what to do with the Lord Fraldarius looking like, well… 

Sylvain came down from the palace and cleared it up quickly, but even he burst into laughter. “Felix, why are you wearing our old sauna uniforms?”

He wasn’t. Felix was wearing linen pants and a long tunic, similar to what he wore when he went out to the farms. It was hot and the road by horse was long enough that comfort was the priority. Felix shrugged.

“Where would I have changed?”

“That’s fair, actually,” Sylvain replied, leading him through the gates and towards the palace steps. “I’ll get the gang together for dinner since you’re visiting. You couldn’t have given us a warning?”

“I did.”

“Sending one of your guards a few hours ahead of you is barely a warning.”

“Not like I intend to disrupt Dimitri’s plans,” he said, realizing that Sylvain had led them right to the royal hall and that he was about to do exactly that.

The doors swung open and Felix grimaced. Dimitri, who was talking to some officials, immediately stood and walked to him, leaving a trail of scrolls in his wake.

“Felix!” Dimitri gave him a hug. “How’s retirement?”

He didn’t like the glint in Dimtiri’s eye, who knew obviously from the logistics reports that Felix was not as retired as he’d like to be. 

“Fine.”

Dimitri just rolled his eyes. “Sylvain, are you in charge of getting everyone for dinner?”

Sylvain nodded, but Felix grabbed his shoulder as he turned to leave.

It’d been a year since he was last in this room and so much had changed. It was  _ odd _ seeing Dimitri so comfortable here, and even Sylvain seemed pleased with the role he got to play as a diplomat. Of course they’d been trading letters, but to see them all…

It made him feel out of place, was all. Felix, the countryside Lord, in the center of civilization. Not that he really cared. It’s not like he was here to see them.

“Make it later yeah? I need to see Annette.”

Sylvain and Dimitri exchanged glances, and Dimitri handed Sylvain two gold coins. 

“Damn,” he said as Sylvain pocketed them.

“I’ll find Ing later today.” Neither registered that Felix was standing, frozen.

“Did you two idiots bet on why I’m here?” he asked, annoyed.

“Rumors travel, Fel,” Sylvain winked. “Let’s get you and your men settled in and send a note to our dear friend Annette, yeah?”

Felix let his friend lead him to his quarters, remembering fondly the nights he’d spent cuddled next to Annette. The embarrassment was probably a worthwhile price to see her. 

* * *

Annette was stunning. She always was, with the late summer sun kissing her skin, and in her new teacher’s outfit, somehow she was more gorgeous than he imagined. Though he actively tried not to imagine her in a slim black dress. 

She caught him staring at her and glared at him over her tea. “You’ve been spending too much time with my father,” she said, eyes narrowed.

He blinked, pretending like he hadn’t been checking her out. “What?”

Annette smiled at him and took a sip of her tea, then gently put it down and sighed.

“It’s okay, you know. To be apart.” She glanced past him. “My mother and father loved each other even while he was in exile. I don’t expect to have to stay in your stuffy old castle for the rest of my life. That doesn’t mean we can’t be, well…”

She trailed off and smiled and Felix stared at her. What was she saying? Not that it was unclear that she was informing them of the rather unchanged status of their relationship, but it threw him for a loop that she was so direct about it. It was a contrast to how little they put words to the feelings in between them during the war. Felix hid behind his tea. Maybe he was spending too much time with Gilbert.

“Just don’t take another wife without consulting me okay?” She smiled at him again and he spit the tea in his mouth back in his cup. 

Just as he was opening his mouth to respond, Annette gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“And visit me more than once a year.”

Felix gave up trying to respond and just nodded. He found her hand and squeezed it for a second.

“Come out for a week,” he said. “Let me show you my stuffy old castle.”

“Sure,” Annette said. “Just don’t say that in front of Sylvain.” 

“How’s teaching?” he said, changing the subject. He could listen to Annette talk about that forever, at least, and it would spare him the need to say anymore. They could talk about what was or wasn’t between them some other time, but he wanted to enjoy a late afternoon in the city without all of those emotions.

* * *

That night, the Blue Lions gathered in the royal palace’s dining hall. Felix realized that this wasn’t a rare event - turned out that they tried to have dinner once a month, though often one or two of them were missing. Ashe had missed the last few to take care of business in Rowe, and Sylvain frequently went out on diplomatic missions. But it was Felix’s first time and he thought he might want to come by more often.

If only to watch how his friends skittered around one another so obviously.

Sylvain orbited around Ingrid. He wasn't sure if they’d both moved forward yet, but the look on Sylvain’s face was more obvious than Felix’s when he realized he loved Annette. Embarrassingly, it was after another fishing session with Gilbert. He shuddered thinking about how he might be the man’s future son in law.

While Ingrid and Ashe helped Dedue bring food from the kitchen - they’d given the kitchen servants the night off for the sake of their private dinner - Annette and Mercedes were setting the table placings. Felix pulled a chair from the end of the table and sat watching, and Dimitri pulled up next to him.

“I’ve kept up with Fraldarius’ agricultural reports,” Dimitri said. “Well done.”

Felix sized him up. He looked like he’d finally had a chance to sleep - the neverending wrinkles around his eyes had smoothed, and his grin finally looked… well, human.

“You’ve been sending knights to me haven’t you,” Felix asked. One of the things he appreciated most about Dimitri, at least before the man went feral for a half decade, was how he thought of the soldiers under his command. It was reassuring to know that Felix’s repurposing of his castle meant something to the throne. 

Dimitri just shrugged. “I may have let it slip that knights taking time off might find their trip paid to Fraldarius paid for.”

“Sly boar,” Felix replied. Then, after a beat. “Thanks.”

“We’ll visit soon, you know. We were just waiting for you to be settled, didn’t want to come without an invitation. But I think Sylvain and Ingrid are taking this visit as their invitation…”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Yeah I figured. Make sure Annette comes with though.”

Dimitri gave him a side eye and tracked his gaze to Annette, who stole a glance back at him and smiled. “At this point? I think Byleth is gonna take the road trip with us.”

“Pfft.” 

Just then, Dedue brought the last plate from the kitchens. “Better join them,” Dimitri said, slapping Felix on the shoulder. They stood, pulled their chairs to the table, and had the best meal Felix had eaten in a year.

* * *

Sylvain and Ingrid visited first. Unannounced, they strolled right into his poetry class and took seats in the back of the room.

“Take a parchment and write 4 lines each for these topics: swords, lakes, and home. It doesn’t matter what you write, this is just to get your brain flowing.” Felix turned the hourglass and let the dozen or so knights that had signed up get to work.

Then he glared at his friends, who stared at him and stared at each other.

It was… odd that they were in the room. They’d seen him take the lead in battle plenty of times - some of the knights in the room were part of his battalions during different parts of the campaign.

But this was the first time any of his friends had seen him lead in this way. It was hard to relax in Fhiardiad, which was filled with so many people who lived so far away from the front lines. It was easier to be alone or be around the people from the surrounding towns, who experienced firsthand the need to work with their hands. Better to be around the knights that came to him and teach them how to create instead of kill.

He wondered how they’d respond. The rest of the Blue Lions had tramas that ran deep and all of them had scarcely talked about it save for whenever something happened. None of them really had the right words. 

But to his surprise, both of them got to work. Sylvain had the same thoughtful look on his face as when he was trying to read people, and Ingrid looked like she was studying battle diagrams. 

When the hourglass finished, Felix gave the next step of instructions. “Read it to the person next to you and tell them something about what you wrote. Why it’s important, or a memory, or whatever.” Felix shrugged and let the discussions go on.

Sometimes he felt like a teacher - he definitely took notes from how Byleth and the other professors had led them at the monastery. But there was a crucial difference in the work he did now. The monastery prepared them to wage war, and he prepared the knights to come to terms with what happens after.

It was work Felix had to do for himself during the first month living back in the castle. He still wrote letters to his father and brother, though less frequently. These days he preferred to write to his living friends. Still, it was a skill worth teaching.

Sylvain and Ingrid cornered him in front of the door after the room cleared. He’d forgotten how ornately decorated this room was - the walls were lined with painting and the back wall that he’d been standing against was made of glass. Felix had had a chalkboard brought in, as well as rows of chairs, but otherwise, it looked like one of the meeting rooms that his father used during long councils.

“Glenn would have been happy,” Ingrid said, breaking the silence. Felix noticed that Sylvain was holding her hand. “Seeing this place become so… tender.”

Sylvain nodded. “Suits you better than the boring stuff at the palace.”

Felix grinned. “The next hour is group cooking.” 

* * *

Annette visited a month later, sending a letter ahead of time, and Felix had never been more nervous of hosting someone in the castle.

He’d received plenty of advance warning when high ranking generals came. Caspar and Ferdinand, who’d surrendered rather than die, had gotten pardons to stay for a week in the past. Plenty of women stayed too - Felix had a separate wing set up for them, though all of the classes and field work didn’t change.

But Annette was different - she wasn’t coming for a stay at what the knights in Fodlan affectionately called,  _ The Home _ . She was coming to visit him.

Her words from their tea date in the city rung through his ears.  _ Don’t take another wife. _ When did she become his wife… 

Felix let the thoughts run through his head while sitting in the main hall. He finally felt comfortable sitting in the damn chair, and was having a meeting when a courier announced that Annette, or the Lady Dominic, had arrived.

Felix stood up too quickly, scattering the stack of papers on his desk, and his advisors took it as a sign to leave. Felix ran his hands through his hair a few times to smooth it over as the doors opened.

Annette, flanked by a few personal guards who held her bags, wore a loose summer dress and a wide straw hat and Felix had never thought she could look any more like she belonged exactly where she stood. 

He smoothed his hair, which had grown long enough to braid again, and stepped towards her.

“Hey,” he said, pathetically.

Annette stood in place to watch him step towards her, then dropped the bag in her hand and walked towards him rapidly. He was scared for a moment, until he saw the look on her face.  _ Wow. _

Annette stopped just shy of him and stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. Suddenly his castle didn’t seem so stuffy. Felix hadn’t let himself enjoy a kiss from Annette since he left Fhirdiad the first time, and the passion behind her lips almost made him regret the last year of separation. 

Annette pulled away, cheeks as bright as her hair, and looked right into his eyes. “So tell me everything?”

“Okay.” Felix looked at the guards left in the room and sent them away with a nod, then pulled Annette by the arm back to his quarters. 

* * *

Annette lay tangled with him - legs wrapped around each other, hands entwined. His chin was pressed against the side of her neck. 

“I haven’t married anyone,” he confessed, pressing his lips against the column of her throat. “And I tried to make the castle less stuffy for you.”

Annette giggled. Her hand was warm and comfortable against the back of his neck.

“I didn’t think you would. I can wait,” she said. 

“I don’t want you to,” he confessed, kissing the underside of her jaw. “I just…”

“I don’t want you to move to Fhirdiad. And I don’t think it’s time for me to live here yet,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean…” Annette trailed off as Felix grazed the spot just below her earlobe with his lips. 

“Doesn’t scare you off?” he asked, smiling into the side of her face.

“If anything about you scared me off, you’d have known when we were still at the academy,” she said, with a sigh in his ear. “But this is where you belong.”

He wasn’t sure if she meant here being Fraldarius or here being coiled up with her in bed, but he didn’t mind either way. 

“I do love you Annie,” he said, kissing her on the lips. Her foot trailed up and down the back of his calf. “I’m not as tired as I used to be.”

“Good,” she said, pulling him back into a kiss. He rolled above her, locking eyes “I’m yours whenever you’re ready.” 

**Author's Note:**

> first felannie! how'd i do?!


End file.
